


Godzilla Makes an Omelet

by donutsweeper



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein everything goes wrong except the things that go right and eggs are broken but no omelets are made (except metaphorically).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godzilla Makes an Omelet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tommygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommygirl/gifts).



To say the mission had not gone well would have been an understatement. Cougar hadn't thought it was _possible_ for so many things to go wrong at one time until now. Well, no, that was not true. He'd been on plenty of missions that had gone so badly they'd blown up in his face. Sometimes literally. But never before had he been on a mission when so many tiny, inconsequential things had gone wrong all at the same time. Damn Jensen for complaining about having to postpone their Doctor Who marathon for such an "easy op," it had jinxed them. Not that Cougar had been particularly looking forward to spending an entire weekend rectifying the so-called travesty that was his inexperience with classic era Cybermen, but Jensen had promised plenty of pizza and beer and, well, it was _Jensen_ asking and it wasn't like he could ever say no to Jensen so he'd agreed to it anyway.

And it wasn't just Jensen that had thought it was a simple op. While going over the mission specs all of them, in one way or another, had commented on how this was one of the easiest missions they'd ever been assigned. After reading the briefing Roque had even yelled at Clay for wasting their skills on an op that even Chambers wouldn't have been able to screw up and Roque _loathed_ Chambers, once claiming the man wouldn't be able to tell a Ka-Bar from a switchblade if his life depended on it. 

The planning and prep work might have gone off without a hitch, but once the mission started it all went to hell.

Somehow, they were dropped off at the wrong coordinates so they had to slog an extra seventeen klicks in the rain above and beyond the nine klicks they'd expected and planned for. 

Once they hit their target location Pooch couldn't locate a vehicle for them that had a decent engine, inflated tires and gasoline in it. Siphoning the gas they needed wasn't a problem, but it took two hours and every trick Pooch had ever learned to get something that could theoretically be considered usable transportation. 

When they arrived at the abandoned warehouse that they were supposed to use as their base they discovered it wasn't abandoned anymore, but rather a hole in the ground.

They quickly detoured to their planned secondary point of operations, only to find it was currently being used for an underground rave.

The rain turned into a torrential downpour before finally tapering off, causing a mudslide that took out numerous roads, including their scheduled escape route and _both_ of their original backup routes.

An accident caused a truck to crash into the substation closest to their target's location, taking out a transformer and causing a temporary blackout.

The power returning to the area triggered the security system to reset in the middle of Jensen hacking it resulting in the alarms going off, alerting everyone to their presence.

Still, despite all the problems, it had looked like the mission might be a success after all. Jensen worked his magic and snuck them in, Clay secured the manifests, Pooch had an excuse to use a bazooka and Roque got to stab someone. 

And then...

Jensen.

Got.

Shot.

As a result they were speeding down one of the few remaining roads that led out this godforsaken hell hole in an ancient, nearly rusted out pickup. Pooch, Roque and Clay were all crammed together in the cab with Jensen stretched out in the back, leaning against Cougar while Cougar tried to keep the two of them from being thrown out as they bounced up and down as they went over the potholes while, at the same time, trying to tie a pressure bandage over the hole in Jensen's leg.

"It's not your fault," Jensen said, again, in between the hisses of pain he was trying to hide. "Quit blaming yourself."

Cougar shook his head. "I was on lookout. I should have seen him."

And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? Because despite all the things that had gone wrong, the rest of the team had managed to successfully complete their mission. Cougar was the only one who had failed, somehow mistaking the shadow of a SA-80 for a tree branch, which was a goddamn rookie mistake to make. No, even a FNG straight out of the Q should have been able to recognize that for what it was. There was no excusing the fact he hadn't, he was an experienced Army sniper for fuck's sake. He should be able to recognize a fucking assault rifle when he saw one. 

"Hey." Jensen reached a bloody hand up and tapped Cougar on the cheek. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" Cougar pushed Jensen's arm back down before securing a second bandage over the first. "You shouldn't be moving unnecessarily." 

"Yeah, well you shouldn't be blaming yourself unnecessarily. The mission was a success."

"You. Were. Hurt." 

"And you got the guy who did it," Jensen said with an air of finality, like Cougar managing to take out a merc less than 700 yards away who'd already shown himself was anything to be proud of.

"Only after he shot you."

"Yeah, but his aim sucked. It's a through and through, Cougs. A lot of blood, sure, but it's not that bad."

"Jensen," Cougar began, but sighed, not knowing what else to say.

Jensen gave a half shrug. "You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs."

"Do not joke about this. _Breaking a few eggs_ is something minor, like us missing our pickup window or Roque losing one of his knives, not you lying here with a bullet in your leg."

"Well, I didn't say they were quail eggs or whatever those itty bitty ones in the fancy supermarkets are called. I'm talking big eggs. Huge. Like King Kong-sized eggs. Wait, that doesn't make sense. King Kong's a primate. Godzilla. Godzilla-sized eggs." Jensen held his hands about a foot apart, demonstrating the size he was talking about. "And while we're on the subject... Dinosaurs. Are you in the scales or feathers camp? Or do you have no opinion on the matter whatsoever? You have thought about it though, right? 'Cause I can't be with a guy who doesn't at least-"

Wanting to keep Jensen calm, if not quiet, Cougar used his tried and true method to derail Jensen's thought processes. He kissed him.

It worked.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the scenery fly by, before he said, "Godzilla eggs are too precious to break. To even to risk breaking."

"Cougs."

"No. Listen to me." He leaned over so he could whisper into Jensen's ear and didn't have to shout. "There are many things in this world that can be sacrificed in the name of making a good omelet but Godzilla eggs should not be one of them. They _will_ not be one of them."

Jensen put his hand over Cougar's own, threading their fingers together. "We're not still talk about eggs here, are we?"

"No, we are not." 

"I love you too, Cougs, love you too."


End file.
